Running Town

I’ve already talked about how amazed I am with the running club I joined, how 25 or so people show up first thing Saturday morning in mid-August for a seven-mile run. They are nice people, and there's always good conversation during the run, or afterward with a cup of coffee.

That sense of amazement grew during my run. Not by the group I’m a part of, but by the number of runners I saw out and about at 7:00 am. They were everywhere. Several groups of two, three, or four were getting some exercise. Guys, gals, people of all ages, shapes, and sizes, all realizing the importance of being fit. It’s even common for me to see several runners as I drive in to town and wonder whether I’m late (I’ve done well on that so far).

But later that afternoon, the First Lady and I went out for a nice meal and evening on the town, and we sat outside and ate seafood at one of Athens’ high-volume traffic areas, for cars and for pedestrians. It’s also some of the same pavement we pounded earlier that morning. So I’m eating shrimp and grits (omg it was so good) and drinking a Samuel Adams, and I must have seen 30 more folks out running. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing—it seemed like the whole world was running past us. Had to have helped that it was a gorgeous, sun-splashed day, and dry (unusual for the Deep South), with temps in the low 80s at 6 pm.

However, it doesn’t really matter what time of day-- runners are everywhere in this town. I can be driving in to pick up the wife for lunch or on my way to church and I’ll see several folks out doing their thing. It may have a little to do with motivating myself for another solo run, but it sure is inspiring to see so many people getting out there and working hard. I am happy to be one of them. 

Why not?

When I was in second and third grade, I played a few years of YMCA soccer. This was not the youth soccer we know today—this was 22 kids chasing the ball on a dirt field, swinging a leg and hoping for the best. Maybe they kicked the ball, maybe they didn’t. My contribution was one of my front teeth when a ball struck me in the mouth. Coach Diehl picked up a big-ass rock and asked if this was my tooth. That story has aged well over the years.

Anyhow, One day during a 5:15 practice at Franklin Field, a buddy and I got busted for yakking it up in the back while coach was speaking. As discipline, he told us to take a lap around the practice field (which was in better shape than the field at the Y). Cold busted, George and I took off running.

And when I worked at the running store, sometimes we’d have to explain how we were a specialty running store, but… we couldn't finish our sentence before the customer would tell us, “Oh, I don’t run.”

They couldn't tell us fast enough. Like running was something people didn’t do—a label they didn’t want. I think the ‘running as punishment’ thing takes over pretty early, and that folks think running is evil. The whole being out of breath thing must scare a lot of people. Perhaps it’s what they read about getting injured. But if you’re doing it right, have the right shoes, good form, build gradually, and get a little better every time, the injury bug should stay away.

It could also be the soreness we feel after a run. I enjoy that feeling, and to an extent, it’s something I look for—to have that energized feeling in my legs the rest of the day.

I never understood, and still don’t. Ever pay attention to how fit a distance runner looks? I especially envy the soccer players I watch on TV—those athletes run a lot during practice and during a match. Not much of it is in a straight line, either. Lots of stopping and starting, shuttle drills, and such. As a result, they don’t have an ounce of fat on them. I’m sure a few of them (by their standards) are out of shape, but even those players have a fitness level that far exceeds most of ours. 

Besides, why wouldn’t someone want to be healthy? How do folks seem to avoid taking just one hour of their day (just 4.2%) to exercise? Why wouldn’t someone want to test their boundaries and just see what’s possible? Why would we avoid the feeling of accomplishment, the sense of ‘wow’ that I (and countless others) have felt toward the end of their first marathon? I seriously welled up at about mile 24, knowing that this was going to happen, knowing four months of training and four hours of pain were resulting in this incredible feeling. Also that I learned a little bit about myself and what I am capable of.

I also like the feeling of fitness I get from a run. I like being able to crank out the day’s mileage. Hitting my splits. Maybe even throwing a little speed in there. It’s a great feeling to know I have done something positive for my body, and that over time, my body has responded. I’m not as ripped as a soccer player or distance runner, but I feel and look great.